“Thanks.”
After Fate and Lars left my condo, I hadn’t been able to sit there another minute. Problem was, I didn’t want to speak to anyone, either. My aversion to having company spurred my exit and I grabbed my purse from the seat next me to leave. By time I grabbed it, the man was already standing there next to me.
He was in his late forties and aged to perfection in a Clooney kind of way. Everything about him was well manicured, like he had all the time and money in the world. He was the type of guy that wouldn't have noticed me in my old body.
My human form had been attractive, but my appeal never kicked in to full force until I spoke to someone and my wit won them over. I hadn't had the looks that would bring unknown men to my side. It was flattering, but I still didn't want to talk to him.
“Just a moment?” he asked. His impeccable manners encouraged my own to resurface from where I'd buried them alongside my human body.
“Of course.” I settled in my chair as I tried to get a read on him. I couldn't figure out if he was human, or if his karma was in perfect balance. He had to be human. Wouldn't I know him otherwise?
He pulled out the stool and settled in with more elegance than should have been possible.
“My name is Malokin. I'd like to offer you a job.” Hands in front of him, fingers knit, he waited for my reply.
“I'm already employed, but thank you.” He didn't even know who I was. He could at least ask a few questions before using a line like that, to make it a bit more believable.
“Yes, Camilla, I know you do. And you could be so much more.”
I’d gone from figuring out how to get rid of him to giving him my full attention. “Who are you?”
“I'm someone who could help you.”
There was a threat in the way he said could. As if he could do other things that wouldn't be as appreciated.
I looked into his nearly black eyes and saw the menace and intent there. This man, whatever he was, got his way no matter what it took.
He smiled. “Or not. It's your choice.”
“What exactly are you saying?” There wasn’t a doubt in my mind anymore that this person wasn’t human, and he wasn’t from the agency. That didn’t leave any good options left.
“I'd like you to come and work for me.”
“I’m not interested.” Whoever Suit had been, like he’d warned, he hadn’t been alone. All this time dodging Fate just to keep my distance from this—to avoid this moment—had been futile.
Paddy appearing right next to us threw us both off guard. The stranger looked alarmed, but I was one hundred percent grateful.
“Didn’t know we were having drinks tonight?” Paddy said, already with a beer in hand.
“Who is this?” Malokin asked.
He looked alarmed. And why did nobody know who the hell Paddy was?
“Name's Paddy.” He held out his free hand to Malokin, who still looked ill at ease.
Malokin shook his hand and I saw a flash of apprehension shoot across his face. Malokin relinquished his grip and pulled his hand away a little too quickly.
“What are you doing here?” Malokin asked. That was an odd question for someone he didn't know. Did he know him, or not? What was going on here?
“Can't an old guy enjoy a beer out?” Paddy replied, but I had the strangest feeling that wasn't what Malokin had meant at all. I was pretty sure Paddy knew that as well.
“I'll be going.” Malokin smiled stiffly and then reached into his pocket and laid a business card on the bar before me. “Call me. Soon.” He looked at Paddy one last time before he stood and left.
Paddy took his vacated stool as I looked down at the card. The only thing on it was his first name and a phone number.
“Now that's a bad sort you might want to watch your step around.”
I took a sip of the wine I'd initially wanted to decline. “What's that say about you then? If you're scaring off the bad element?” Malokin had taken off pretty quickly after Paddy's arrival.
“Oh no, lassie, we aren't going to go down that path again today, are we?”
“You mean the one where I ask who you are and you ignore me or give me some lame recruiter explanation? Nah, I'm done getting stuck on that dead end myself. Keep your secrets. Just know that they come at a price.” I had a bigger issue. I pocketed the card, hoping I wouldn’t ever need to look at it again.
He sighed in agreement. “When do they not?” He took a swig of his beer. “So, how've you been settling in?”
“Cliff jumping is starting to lose its appeal.” I spun my cell phone on the wooden bar top.
“I'll take that as a good sign.”
“I thought so.” I took another sip of wine. “Hard to get cell service up there, anyway.”
“You know, you're a lot like me.” Paddy plunked his draft down on the bar, causing the beer inside to splash over the rim, but somehow not get the bar wet. When he lifted it, I waited to see if there’d be a puddle left behind, but there was nothing.
“That statement might mean something to me if I knew exactly who you were. As it is...” I shrugged and then pushed the wine to the edge of the bar and asked for a Maker's Mark on the rocks. Wine felt too refined for the life I led now. My existence was definitely more in line with bourbon. I was even contemplating switching to straight up.
I turned my head back to Paddy, just in time to see him smile before he vanished. There wasn't really a point to looking around the room for him. He was an old hat at the vanishing act, and I'd become almost as experienced at ignoring the oddities that surrounded him. Still, it was a nifty trick I wished I could pull off.
I'd have to settle or my own less impressive skills for now. A guy with bad karma was sitting a few stools down. I blew out a gentle breath and watched as his money flew off the bar and into the bartender's tip cup. It was enough to entertain me while I worked on a nice bourbon buzz.
Chapter Eight
Some things stick.
“Why are we here? Do you have a drinking problem? I can set up another intervention,” Luck said, looking down at the glass in her hand, the cleanliness of it slightly in question. Her eyes scanned the bar room next, as something close to a cringe started to appear.
“I don’t have a drinking problem.” What I had was a stalking problem; as in too many people were following me around lately.
Ever since I’d met Malokin at my usual haunt, it hadn't felt as comfortable as it once had. When I went to the office, I felt Fate’s presence more than ever, just waiting for that ticking time bomb to blow. I now had two options: sit in my condo all day, and wait for either Fate or Malokin to show up there, or hide.
I could only walk the store aisles for so long and the parents at the park were starting to give me weird looks. O'Henry's was an old corner bar, low on tourists; well, technically, low on customers altogether. It was the ideal place to hide.
I heard the creaky door open and Luck's attention was diverted not even a second later. “Ooooh, I like him!”
Turning, I saw exactly what I had expected. A young twenty-something guy walked in the bar. His biceps were so well developed they forced his t-shirt sleeves to wrinkle into the crease under his shoulders.
Just like a tiger squats, as it gets ready to pounce, she pulled out her compact and lipstick, freshening up before she made her move.
“Good?” she asked, toying with a couple of stray locks of hair. She shifted her neckline so low she was in danger of one of her breasts breaking free.
“Perfection. He's yours, at least for the evening.”
She smiled, immune to my sarcastic delivery by now. Her white teeth gleamed brightly against her red lips. “You don't mind, do you?” she asked as an afterthought.